"What are you talking about?" Zim shouted. "I was tube-bred!"

"Actually," drawled Red, "you were born prematurely, which made you a candidate for tube-gestation."

Zim's mind scrambled to make sense of what he had just heard. He quickly broke down the facts for himself.

I was a smeet born of a traitorous Irkin female.

Dib was her child of traitorous conception. Most likely Gaz was as well.

Do they know about Gaz?

Dib and I are about to be executed.

"But, my Tallest!"

"Silence. Zim, you know the law, you quoted it yourself. Guards, lock them in MaxSec Cell #3. The sentence will be carried out in one hour."

……………………………………

Zim slammed his head against the unforgiving cell wall over and over.

"How could they do this to me?" he raged. "All I ever did was serve them, obey them. I, ZIM, practically licked their feet!"

Silence was his only answer.

He slumped against the wall, weak with rage and feelings of betrayal. "But… I… am… Zim…" he clenched his eyes shut, slamming the lid down on his feelings. "To be Irkin is to be in control. Now, what are the facts? I have served the empire all my life. I have sacrificed all for them, my mind, my talents, my time. If I accept my execution, I will be written down in Irkin history as a brave soldier who accepted the verdict of the Tallest unquestioningly. If I attempt anything, even an off-world message, I will be portrayed as a coward and traitor, just like Invader Stok."

He rubbed his temples, ignoring the painful protest of his head.

But what have they ever done for me? I gave them all and got nothing back.

Nothing but the finest military training in the known universe.

Which merely prepared me to land on an alien planet where poisons abound and the inhabitants try to kill me through stupidity or hate.

He glanced over at Dib, curled up in the corner of the dim cell.

He doesn't deserve this. He's still a smeet.

Still a smeet? What am I thinking? This creature has fouled my attempts at planet-domination more times than I can count!

Would I have done any less if Irk was being attacked? The thought took him aback. If Dib was only doing his duty to his planet, how can I despise him?

Because his greatest wish was to have you on an autopsy table, organs splayed out for all to see.

A brief feeling of guilt flickered through him.

I think we are even on that point.

……………………………………

Dib hugged his knees, numb.

Failure. Mrs. Bitters was right. He would never amount to anything now, just some Irkin scientist's prime display.

What a way to go.

Everything GIR had lifted him out of sucked him back down again: Zim probing his insides and the sick feeling of personal violation. The memories of the past screaming that he was really everything he had taught himself to hate. And now, he was helpless in the grip of an alien government that said he was a mistake. That he should never have existed.

Miserably, he wondered if they were right.

……………………………………

"Dib-thing, do not mope any longer. Listen to me! They are coming to execute us in half an hour. We have to come up with a plan."

A beleaguered Dib glanced up. "For what?"

"For what? FOR WHAT!" Zim exploded across the room and seized Dib's jacket collar. "Don't you care that your puny existence is about to be utterly erased?"

Dib wouldn't answer. Realizing with a shock that Dib really didn't care, he let him slide to the floor.

"Fine, maybe you don't care, but I do! I am ZIM and I will not let anybody, not ever the Tallest, exterminate me!" Slapping his PAK he extended the microphone and yelled, "GIR! Go warm up the Voot Cruiser and then break us out of MaxSec Cell #3."

"Wheeee…. Master! How are you?"

"GIR!"

"Oh, you grumpy agai—hey, it's a plonkee! I wuv plonkees."

"GIR!"

"Aw, he's screaming. He wants to play tag! Here I come, plonkee!"

Sighing, Zim muttered, "Omega-beta-365."

"Right, my Master." GIR barked.

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it dangerous locking him in duty mode?"

Zim shrugged. "I installed this feature for emergency use only, and I have a shut-off code."

"Why Zim, you showed foresight. Congratulations."

"Shut your meat-hole."

The room fell silent as the minutes ticked by. Dib languidly counted the ceiling tiles as Zim cracked his… knuckles.

"So-o, Dib-filth. Are you going to come or are you going to stay and let them kill you?"

Dib eyed him cautiously. "Why do you care?"

"I don't!" Zim snapped. "But now that I am in possession of the knowledge that we are… related… I have a responsibility for you."

A grin cracked Dib's face. "Well, whaddaya know, it has a heart."

Stung, Zim lashed, "An Irkin's familial duty, nothing more!"

"I thought your kind are never told who your biological family is. Don't give me that trash about familial duty when you've never had a family to owe a duty to."

"Master, I have obeyed. Greetings, large-head."

Zim whirled around and there stood his little android, eyes flashing red, by a hole in the floor.

"Wonderful, GIR. Does this tunnel to the Voot Cruiser?"

"Yes, my lord!"

"Excellent. Prepare it for lift off."

GIR ducked into the hole, vanishing from sight. Zim motioned to it. "Well, are you coming?" Without waiting for a reply, Zim lowered himself through the floor.

After a moment's hesitation, Dib pulled himself over and slipped in after Zim.